For Want of a Phone.
For Want of a Phone.
>
It takes Tommy a few hours to do the research he needs to do for the phone. He'd like a touchscreen. One of the new smartphones.
The problem is that his thumb covers about a quarter of the screen of a normal smartphone, so he'll need to get something significantly more robust. With a case made out of something tough enough to survive being in his presence and preferably with cordless charging. The idea that he wouldn't eventually damage something trying to plug it in with those tiny little cables is a pipe dream. A while ago, that might have been something he'd be looking into Lexcorp products for. But these days since Lexcorp went belly up, most of that kind of specialty product is handled by another huge magnate.
Wayne Enterprises' Tech division.
The problem is that while you can buy Wayne Enterprises' products anywhere, buying the kind of specialty products he is interested in is most easily done at their showroom/outlet in what is known as 'The Diamond District.' Which is another trek into the upscale areas of town that he honestly doesn't want to deal with again. Full of high-rise apartments and security, and snobby Karens that won't take kindly to him, most likely.
At least they can't hurt him, probably. It helps that the Commissioner seems to like him. So at least there's that.
It'll take him a couple of hours to get there at an easy pace and dealing with road crossings, so he puts on his nicest shirt and a pair of jeans. Slips his sandals on, and thanks whatever god you like that the weather isn't horrible. A touch drizzly, but that is supposed to clear up completely by noon. He leaves after breakfast and tells Uncle Lou what he's up to.
His Uncle's only request was to leave the 9-5, Monday through Friday slot open for the next few weeks while they work on things. Which, yeah.
Uncle Louis is awesome.
>>
It ends up taking about two hours to make the walk there, and even at this fancy-schmancy place, he has to duck under the door to get in.
He steps in and is immediately stopped by a nervous-looking man with his hand on the grip of a sheathed handgun.
“Stop!” He then steps forward. Far too close, Tom thinks off the cuff. He can reach out and touch the guy right now and if he can do that, this guy doesn't know what the hell he's doing. “What brings you to Wayne-Tech?”
Tom sighs, trying to keep his temper under control. This kind of thing is just so damn tiresome. “I was hoping to buy a good cell phone if that's okay?”
The man looks confused and a bit suspicious of him when he stops and politely answers the question. Seriously, what the heck is the standard meta ways to treat people if this is the Pavlovian response to seeing one?
“You are here to buy a phone? Why would you come here for that?”
Tom raises his hand, and the man panics more than a little, undoing the little snap on the holster. Tom ignores it. “Because sir. This is my hand. I'm not sure I'll be able to use a normal one.”
Seemingly in a trance, the security guard holds his own hand up and then openly cringes at the dinner plate-sized palm that his hand and fingers, completely spread out, fits comfortably within. He then puts his hand back down, and Tom follows suit.
“You just want to buy a... Specialty phone?”
Tom nods, still trying to look as small as possible. “Yes, sir. Do you happen to know where in the building I should go for that?”
The man shakes his head. Not in a way that would imply a negative response, but more in a way that would seem to imply that he is trying to clear his head. “Are you a meta?”
Tom shrugs. “Yeah. I mean, it's kind of obvious. Couldn't hide it if I wanted to.”
“And you came here for a phone?”
Tom is starting to get slightly annoyed at this point. This is not a hard concept he's trying to get across. “Yes. Unless there is some 'meta' store that I don't know about, this would be a place to buy a phone, right?”
It is right then that the security guard jerks upright into a stance that makes Tom think he did some time in the military at some point and rattles off a picture-perfect: “Yes sir, right away.”
Then he, seemingly reluctantly, removes his hand from his gun, redoes the snap, and points to a hallway leading further into the facility. “I've been told to take you to get things sorted. Please follow me.”
>>
Tom is getting a bit confused. He isn't being taken to a display case, or a rack of phones in plastic packaging. He ended up in an elevator that is large enough it probably gets used for freight as well, and is hauled up to the twenty-third floor of the building. Where he is met by a kindly-looking older black man. Said man offers Tom a smile and then a stern look to the guard.
“Spencer, for future reference, we are not a company that is bigoted against metas. We are not unwilling to sell things to metas. Since this is true, it seems that there is also no reason to ask anyone if they are... a meta. Wouldn't you say?”
The guard looks like he is about to crap down both legs and as soon as this older man waves him away, he flees.
The man then turns to Tom, and with an apologetic smile and demeanor, motions for Tom to follow him. “I apologize, we try to screen for things like that, but sadly we can't catch them all. We'll have to move him to some sort of position that isn't dealing with customers.” He smiles widely then and puts out his hand to shake. “My name is Lucius Fox, and I manage this building and most of what is in it, among other things.”
Tom smiles and very carefully shakes the man's hand. “Hello, sir. My name is Tom Wierzowski, and I'm honestly not sure I need your help. I really just came here to buy a phone that I could use. My, uh, meta-ness? Gave me hands that I'm not sure will work really well with a normal phone, so I was looking for something a bit tougher and with a larger screen.”
Fox stops the handshake and chuckles slightly at just how his hand is lost in the palm of this giant. “Well, I can run through what we currently have in stock for you if you like.”
Tom negatively shakes his head. “Oh, no sir. I'm sure you have better things to do than sell me a phone. I can just go back down and find the display case, wherever it is.”
Lucius Fox sighs through his smile. Bruce was right, Tom was raised better than any kid from Crime Alley had any right to be. “Son, please understand. What that guard did down there was deplorable, and it is now my job to make it right. Wayne Enterprises will not let a customer experience like that stand, and it will be my absolute honor and pleasure to see you walk out of here with something that suits you.”
“But... But I only have about twenty-five hundred dollars, and I need to buy a plan to go with it too. I just wanted to get, like, a contractor phone or something. Something tougher than normal with a bigger than normal screen maybe? For my sausage fingers? You probably make that much or more in a day, there is no way this is a good use of your time, Mr. Fox.”
The old man simply turns back to his office and motions for Tom to follow. Since he knows that the elevator requires a key card that he doesn't have, he is stuck following.
The office he is taken to is impressively large and has a nice-looking couch off to one side. “Have a seat, son. That'll hold you. I promise.”
Tom gingerly sits and is pleasantly surprised when there are no creaking or popping sounds. His look of confusion makes Lucius chuckle. “You aren't the only meta that Wayne-Tech has helped in the past, Tom. And while you are on the larger end of the scale, that couch was made future-proof when the most recent remodel was done a few years ago.” He begins clicking keys and his mouse, and then throwing the images to a large screen set off to the side of the room, obviously intended for meetings, demonstrations, and the like. But the entire catalog of telecommunications products that they sell is on the screen, getting scrolled through.
The suggested retail prices that are listed make him want to gag. Lucius seems to miss his expression entirely. “What were you looking for exactly? A smartphone with a larger screen would effectively be a tablet with the phone parts built in. Not something we carry, but it wouldn't take much to produce as a one-off. The operating systems are mostly the same, after all. Though the larger and thinner it is, the weaker it will be structurally unless we do something to reinforce it...” He smiles. “The easiest option might be to simply get a tablet and a phone, and slave the phone to the tablet. Keep the phone itself in a pocket and use the tablet one step removed. Would that interest you?”
Tom is about speechless at this point but has it in him to mutter. “But... So much money...”
Fox nearly rolls his eyes, but instead decides to explain something to the boy. “Tom, I am going to trust you here to not take advantage. But there is something that I think I need to explain to you before you misunderstand any further what is going on here. What I am doing right now, is called 'damage control.' By all rights, Wayne Enterprises could be taken to court over what happened in the lobby.” He smirks. “You'd lose, of course. Even if we didn't have the best lawyers money can buy, we also have video and audio of everything that has happened since you entered the building, including what I am doing now. But you could, and those same lawyers cost a hell of a lot of money. So, you will be getting what you need today, and I will be sending you on as a happy customer. Because it is good business for me to do so. Do you understand?”
Tom can't take his eyes off the price tags for all of this but nods hesitantly. “If you say so, sir.”
The old man smiles widely, the freckles that are scattered across his nose and cheeks moving merrily as he chuckles. “I do say so. Now let's see what we can do for you, shall we?”
Six hours later, coming on four in the afternoon, he finally steps out of the building in a daze. He's got a new phone in one of his enormous back pockets. It's a five-pound brick that has a screen nearly a foot long. The battery, he's told, should last a week or more of hard use and the Bluetooth earpiece that they sold him to go with it also had to be custom-made. Everything but the screen is covered in titanium, and the screen itself is some kind of proprietary system that uses a different technology for the touch screen, allowing a person to wear gloves when they use it. Of course, it also allows for a quarter-inch thick piece of tempered, shock-resistant glass-like stuff to be installed over it. He's been told that the thing could survive being run over by a tank without serious concern. And finally as per his only real request, once they had gotten busy both it and the earpiece would do cordless charging. The only thing lacking is the aesthetics because the device truly does look very much like a large, flat, brick with a glass front.
Fox was also very sure that nobody in R&D ever mentioned what this would cost, nor that Tom would be learning over the course of the next month that the brick was significantly more powerful than his computer.
But all that wonder leaves his mind when he is making his way back home and while still in the Diamond District, hears a car chase and gun battle going on and heading his way.
He looks in the direction of the disturbance, and due to the height advantage he has he can see that there is a banking armored car careening down the road in his direction, plowing through vehicles left and right, leaving quivering civilians and the whimpers of the wounded in their wake.
That's ignoring the sheer volume of bullets that are being spit out of the back of the thing, which is obscene.
Tom sighs. He's pretty sure this will work and he's positive it won't kill him. Besides, if it doesn't work, well... He isn't fond of his dreams since the 'disarming' anyway and he isn't interested in a new set of ones where dead people accuse him of letting them die. And so, seeing that cars are scrambling to park on the sides of the road due to the sirens coming, he stands out in the middle of it. Giving them no room to go around him. Then he puts a hand out in a 'stop' gesture and reaches down. Deep. As far as he can for whatever it was that helped against Croc.
When the armored vehicle slams into him doing sixty-seven miles per hour, he knew it wouldn't hurt. Nothing hurts anymore. But he honestly did expect to be moved. His hope was to slow it down and let the cops catch up. End it here, rather than let the battle continue through the city.
His arm is forced back by the thing. But when it reaches him, the front of the car tries to cave in on itself. Between the vehicle crumpling and his own bulk giving way, the thing goes from full speed ahead to a dead stop in about three feet. He can feel the engine still trying to run, tearing itself apart as steam billows from it and he can see that the driver, at least, was clever enough to put on a seat belt. Hopefully, nobody inside got too hurt.
As the police move in and begin securing the area, Tom steps away and sits down on the side of the road. Looks like he won't be getting home for a while after all.
>>
“Robin, you there? This is Signal.”
The answer comes not from Robin, but rather from Oracle. “He's training right now. If it's important I can put him through for you.”
The newest member of the Bat-Family is silent for a moment. “I'm honestly not sure if he'd consider this important or not. That car chase from the armored car heist? It's done. Tom must have been in the area because he just stood out in front of the thing and let it self-destruct when it hit him. Just how tough is this guy? I haven't seen anything like it outside of Superman.”
Tim speaks up. “How fast was it going?”
“Highway speeds. He stopped it cold, man. He didn't move at all.”
There is silence for a few seconds, and then a low whistle from Tim. “Even without knowing what it was carrying, I can tell you that is just plain crazy.”
Jason's voice enters the party line with: “You have got to be kidding, that is insane.”
“No joke, he did it and now he's just sitting by the side of the road waiting to get processed.”
Bruce comes on the line, his deep, calm voice bringing things back down to earth. “He spent much of the day at Wayne-Tech buying a phone, so his being in the area is most likely coincidental. Was anybody hurt?”
Signal responds quickly. “The driver is fine, but the two that were in the back are in bad shape. They were tied off, so they didn't get bashed around too bad, but the whiplash was pretty horrific it sounds like. Broken bones and such just from that. But it sounds like they'll recover. Gordon is on the scene, heading for Tom. I'll get back to you all later.”
Four people at once:
“Leave the feed going!”